


Pass Me The Kerosene

by t0bemadeofglass



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Biting, Bondage, Breast Fucking, Breathplay, Come Eating, Come Marking, Comeplay, Consensual Kink, Dirty Talk, F/M, Figging, Food Kink, Mildly Dubious Consent, Mistaken Identity, Oral Sex, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rope Bondage, Rough Kissing, Rough Sex, Size Difference, Size Kink, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-27
Updated: 2016-02-27
Packaged: 2018-05-23 12:57:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6117148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/t0bemadeofglass/pseuds/t0bemadeofglass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rey doesn't figure this thing between she and Matt will become a regular occurrence, but now that it is, she'll be damned if she lets it end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pass Me The Kerosene

**Author's Note:**

> I was prompted to write a hella kinked out Matt/Rey fic . . . and so I present this to you. I've never written [figging](http://tacit.livejournal.com/225189.html) before, but the more I looked into it the more intrigued I was. Besides, who would I be if I didn't try something new?--Like writing in Present Tense POV (which was a freaking trip and a half, so if anything's off please let me know).  
> Uhhh. so yeah. Happy near end of Reylo Smut Week!   
> OH! The mild dub-con warning comes in the fact that it's Kylo, not actually Matt, that she has sex with, soooo. Yeah. Just a heads up, that's what I'm referring to is the whole fake personal that she's consented to have sex with, and then it turns out to be someone else.

It starts with her asking him to put his hand on her throat and choke her. “Just a little,” Rey murmurs through parted lips, swollen from them having made out for what felt like years. His skin is warm where it presses to hers, his pupils shot as he stares down at her through the lenses of his glasses. He’s already buried to the root within her, and every flex of his hips sends shivers down her spine. There’s just something else she  _ needs _ , and she hopes he doesn’t freak out from the request. She tightens around him, shifting her hips so that she can wrap her legs around his waist and tug him a little closer, her chest aching. Perhaps it’s a mistake to have asked him something like this, something he’s not comfortable to give. They haven’t been doing this for long, only having met up when they happen to get off duty at the same time, and she’s pushing things--which really  _ sucks  _ because part of her wonders whether or not she could sneak him onto her ship back to D’Qar when she has to leave--. 

He leans forward to wrap his long fingers around the smooth column of her throat, and it silences whatever other thoughts might’ve come next, applying pressure as she lets loose a slow, deep groan. His hips snap against hers, and the sound echoes in her ears as he applies more pressure. Lights begin to dance on the edges of her vision as his hips pick up speed, as he stares down at her with wide-eyed wonder and amazement etched on his face. It’s enough to make her whimper, one of her hands diving to the apex of her thighs. It only forces the breath from her lungs all the faster, makes her vision go hazy. He keeps up the steady pressure until she tightens around him and comes with a throaty, muffled shout that hardly has enough air to support it. He removes his hand just in time, just as her body begins to tremor, and she digs her heels into his back as her hips roll upwards to take as much of him in as she can. It’s bliss, it’s mind-numbing, and when she leans up to kiss him hard on the lips she’s grinning and pink-faced from oxygen deprivation. 

“Your turn.” 

 

This thing between them morphs into a regular occurrence, and soon enough Rey notices Matt starts working the same shifts as she does so that when they leave work it’s at about the same time. He waits for her most days, and from there it’s easy to make a quick detour to whoever’s room is closest. He can’t stop running his hands over her body, teasing her breasts or else rubbing her clit, and she can’t stop kissing him. She thinks it’s cute the way he’s stammering one minute to remove his glasses, then the next growling as he fucks her within an inch of her life, his cock buried so deep within her she’s not sure they’ll ever be able to break apart, his body huge above her. 

It’s all she can do, though, to keep his mouth occupied, to keep him from talking. When he talks, he insists it be about Kylo Ren, and  _ really  _ the last thing she wants to hear when she’s riding him is how impressive Kylo’s dick is. Half the time she has to zone out, dip her head back to close her eyes and just let her mind focus instead on how good Matt feels inside of her, let her nails dig into his skin to keep him gasping. It breaks up his words, at least, keeps him from forming cohesive sentences, but the moment she stops he just starts up again. 

The third time he does it she’s between his legs, and he tells her about how Kylo supposedly has a refractory period of a God, that he comes and then can come again. She wonders how it is he knows this, wonders how many times Matt’s been fucked by Kylo Ren if he sounds so damn certain of it, and her irritation ends up getting the better of her. She pushes up and off of her knees, feeling them ache as she crosses to where she’s left her clothes, leaving Matt gasping. 

“Wait, where are you going?” he asks, his eyes wide behind the thick frames of his glasses, and she shoots him a look of disdain. 

“If you’re gonna keep talking about  _ him  _ while I’m blowing you, I think you’ve got a crush you seriously need to examine. Sorry I don’t have a dick big as his.” What’s his problem, anyway? 

She’s only made it halfway across the room when he slams her up and against the wall, his arms pinning her there, cock pressing hard against her abdomen, still slick with her saliva. The look in his eye makes her heart pound and her breath catch. To say he looks like he could strike down the whole base with a glance would be an understatement, and it only stokes the fire that is her arousal. 

“You can’t leave.” It comes out a growl that shouldn’t make her pulse jump but  _ Force,  _ it does, and she has to pause in order to take stock of herself. 

“Are you going to stop talking about him?” she asks, a single eyebrow rising as though to question it. Somehow she doubts he’s capable of such restraint, that he’ll get two minutes in and start babbling on again, but he’s already hoisting her up into his arms and pressing the head of his cock into her.

“Yes,” he hisses, sheathing himself in a simple press of his hips. It’s all she can do to dig her fingers into the curve of his shoulder blades and hold on. Her back arches as he fucks up into her, his hips canting forward at just the right angle to make her see galaxies fly past, and when he releases her left hip to slam his fist on the wall, Rey can hear it crack underneath the weight, and she isn’t so sure she’s ever been as turned on in her life. 

He lays her gently on the bed after that and laps at the come he’s spilled inside of her, using what he can’t get to spread along her thighs. She’s never felt so revered, so holy, as she does right then from the look he fixes her with. He dips two fingers into her, coated in a mix of their spend, and coats her bottom lip with it. His eyes grow dark as her tongue flicks out to run against it, accepting his fingers into her mouth with a greedy, high pitched whine. They don’t bring up Kylo Ren for the rest of the night, and Rey swears it’s some kind of divine intervention. 

 

Rey’s always been crafty with her hands, she wouldn’t have gotten away with being undercover for so long if she wasn’t, but the way she’s got Matt strung up right now makes her particularly proud of her ingenuity. His legs are spread, fastened to either end of a metal pole so he can’t hope to get free, and his hands are bound and fastened to the headboard of her bed as she takes her time running her tongue, lips, fingers, breasts, down his cock. His chest is covered in red splotches where she’d tried a little impact play to great success, getting him hard without any difficulty at all, and now she’s got his cock between her breasts and her mouth just around the tip of him, his skin slick from her having taken his cock as deep into her throat as she can manage. He’s keening, begging for more, as the pressure and sight alone have him red-faced and sweating, but she wants to take her time and savor it. Bless his long legs for giving her plenty of space between them. He’ll be sore once she lets him go, the way he keeps clenching his legs in preparation to try and trap her there, but he can’t move them. 

She can’t use the Force without giving herself away, so she has to make due with what she’s got. She pulls away from his cock with an obscene pop, saliva dangling from the tip of his red and angry cock to her lips, and she drags her tongue across her bottom lip as he sucks in a quick, heavy breath. 

“You’re ruining me,” he gasps, and she can’t help but grin. Good. That’s the point. She extricates herself from between his legs in favor of positioning herself to run the slick lips of her cunt over his shaft, her abdomen aching from the contortion of the pose. It’s entirely worth it to see his mouth fall slack and his muscles to fight to break free, biceps bulging with the effort, hips jerking upwards to try and garner some extra friction. 

When she finally slides atop him, pausing as she leans forward so he hits that perfect spot within her, she latches onto one of his nipples and bites hard enough to make him scream. “I’m going to break you, Matt,” she murmurs against his skin. He trembles. “And you’re going to thank me for it.” 

She rides him harder than she ever has in the past, feeling out the nicely defined muscles of his lower abdomen, playing with her own breasts, all while he watches and begs and strains to touch her himself. All he has to do is tell her to stop and she will, but the thought never seems to cross his mind so she picks up the pace. At one point, she hovers just above him, and he fucks up into her without her having to say anything. Her legs ache and tremble from the strain, muscles demanding respite, even as pleasure floods her whole body when the tip of his cock hits the back of her cervix, then finds a better angle to run right alongside her g-spot. 

When he gets too close she clenches her hand around the base of his dick to stave off the orgasm, stopping cold turkey as he lets out the filthiest, most pathetic whimper she’s ever heard. It’s all she can do not to take him to high heaven then and there after that sound, but she holds out. Makes him calm down before she starts again. 

She should’ve restrained his legs to the bed, because he figures out after that first time he can at least bring his knees up and fuck up into her with quite a bit more force, heels pressing hard into the mattress. It makes her body tremble and she has to lean back to hold onto his knees as he grits his teeth and goes even faster. Oh shit.  _ Oh shit _ . 

“Come for me, Matt. C’mon. Make me come then come for--me--fuck, oh.” She’s losing it, losing that fine thread of control she’s done so much to retain, and her body tightens even further around him as he breaks the damn ties holding him to the bed, wraps his arms around her, and  _ slams  _ her down onto his cock with enough force to make her ache in the best way possible. She sees star systems, galaxies, and she goes limp above him even as her body shudders through her orgasm. He’s not far behind, a battle cry on his lips as he comes, taking the victory for all it’s worth. 

She can’t even be mad at him for it because  _ fuck  _ it’s so worth it. 

 

He gets her back with a stroke of genius she didn’t consider him capable of. He binds her this time, and when he reminds her that she can safeword out at any time it makes her stomach jolt to wonder what he’s got in store for her. He’s careful with the ties, the rope soft but not so comfortable she’s sure she can get out of it and when he comes back with a hulled out . . . something, for the first time she feels anticipation give way to curiosity and perhaps a sliver of self doubt. Just a sliver. 

She doesn’t recognize the smell of what she comes to realize must be a sort of root; it’s spicy and aromatic, making her mouth water, but certainly it belongs in a dish to be eaten rather than with her body. He’s already bound her legs open, preferring to bind them with a rope running under the bed than the spreader bar she’d opted for in the past, and it’s with some surprise that he asks her once more if she’s alright with this. He doesn’t tell her what it is, perhaps assuming she’ll recognize the name of it, but she nods her head. Of all the things to be afraid of, she’s not so sure that a piece of root is high up on the list--. 

He slides it inside her, and it's smoother than she’s expected, fitting right up into her and curved so that the very top of it edged against her clit. She swallows thickly, looking up at him with a bemused sensation as he presses his fingers to her lips, opening them to slick her tongue around the digits. As she’d thought, it’s spicy, heady almost, and bites at her tongue until she’s groaning with the taste of it. Or is that the heat rising between her legs? Fuck.  _ Fuck _ . Her hips undulate of their own accord, and she looks up at him in surprise. Whatever it is he’s pressed past her slick folds it feels warm, almost a low burning that tickles the back of her spine and makes her hands ache to rub at her clit. She bucks her hips up against nothing, hoping for friction, and lets out a quiet groan of disappointment when she can’t find any. Her face heats up as a desperate keen leaves her lips, releasing his fingertips so that she can gasp for air, but it’s not enough. The heat keeps rising, keeps growing more and more intense as her toes curl and she, inexplicably, feels the beginnings of an orgasm begin to cloud her mind. This is insane, impossible, and she’s absolutely wrecked by the idea that he fucking  _ knows  _ this is what’s supposed to happen, is grinning like a loon at her reaction. 

“Matt--Matt I need you. Need you right now.” Because whatever it is that’s inside her, wonderful though it may be, isn’t enough. She needs his cock, needs him to fill her and press against her clit because this scant hint of friction isn’t enough. In fact, she’s pretty sure she’s going to die without it, and tells him as much, hoping to guilt him into action. 

“Do you want to safeword out?” he asks, and he takes pity on her to press the object a little closer to her clit, giving her some of that friction she’s gasping for. 

She comes before she can answer, virtually untouched, and it’s by far one of the strangest experiences. Her body pulses with the orgasm, hips bucking without any hope of getting any extra pressure or sensation, except that the burning is consuming her body and mind and he’s just  _ standing  _ there,  _ grinning _ like he’s the smartest man alive. She can see the outline of his cock, or maybe she can’t through the surprised tears her orgasm brought that cloud her eyes, but she knows he’s as turned on as she is. He wants to fuck her as badly as she wants him to. She tries to stretch closer, but every jolt of her body makes her whimper and intensifies the heat, the pleasure and pain that’s now taken hold of her. 

It doesn’t stop, and she comes twice more like that, each time more intense than the last, before he finally takes pity on her and removes the slick object, covered in her come. She whimpers and trembles as he finally,  _ finally  _ slots his body between her legs and presses into her. Some part of her reasons that if she clenches hard enough around him he might not ever leave, which doesn’t sound so bad at that moment, and he hisses through his teeth at the friction. She wonders if he can feel the same burning as she had, now calming to a dull tempest in her gut, and he ruts into her like he’s dying for it, making her scream as though she is. Dying. It doesn’t surprise her to consider she might be near near heart failure, and the thought makes her want to giggle. 

Still, her body tightening around him makes him come far too quickly for Rey’s tastes, and he presses his forehead to hers when his body goes rigid above hers, his breathing labored. She surges up to kiss him, the kiss a clash of teeth and tongue and a connection that makes her go rigid beneath him with recognition. Wait.  _ Wait _ . 

Oh fuck it all to high hell and back. She manages to wriggle one wrist from the restraints and reaches up to  _ pull  _ at his blond hair, and as the wig comes free with a groan from Matt to reveal a thick patch of black hair, her heart picks up speed. “You son of a bitch.” 

His grin is smug and self-satisfying to say the least as he pulls off the glasses, and the facade is ruined as Kylo Ren stares down at her. “Now, Rey. That’s not a nice way to speak of your commanding General, is it?” 

**Author's Note:**

> [](http://futurerustfuture-dust.tumblr.com>come%20check%20me%20out%20on%20tumblr!</a>)


End file.
